


Down To Business (do you see what I did there?)

by sickly _sweet (infectedsense)



Category: Saturday Night Live RPF
Genre: Blow Job, Established Relationship, Humour, M/M, Oral Sex, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Snark, there's more build-up than actual sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-15
Updated: 2014-08-15
Packaged: 2018-02-13 06:37:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2140848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/infectedsense/pseuds/sickly%20_sweet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seth needs to get work done. Andy is bored. This happens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Down To Business (do you see what I did there?)

**Author's Note:**

> 2010 repost from Livejournal sickly_sweet

A mass of brown curly hair appears around the door, and Seth’s shoulders drop. “Hey, man. What’re you doing?”

“Work, Andy. I am _trying_ to do work. You know that.”

Andy grins, his face the only visible part of him from where Seth sits behind his desk. “All work and no play makes Seth super-lame.”

Seth looks up from the tower of paperwork in front of him. “It’s Monday afternoon. I have thirty two sketch ideas to work through.” He’s trying to look frustrated, trying _really_ hard, but he can feel a smile bubbling up inside him even as he talks. “Surely you understand my schedule by now? You’ve only worked on the show for what, six years?”

“Whatever. Some of us are done for the day.” Andy invites himself into Seth’s office and settles onto the floor, legs crossed.

“And by some of us, you mean...you.”

Andy beams up at him and Seth has a growing suspicion that he won’t be getting any work done any time soon. “I’m bored. Let’s hang out.”

“You couldn’t have picked a better time for this?” Now Seth can actually hear the laughter in his own voice. He should be mad at Andy, he _should_ , but there’s something about his plaintive statements of the obvious and simple smile that always strike a chord in Seth. He feels like a dad who’s come home to find that his kid has drawn all over the walls in lipstick and he’s trying not to find it funny but dammit, it is. Andy’s brown eyes are always dancing with his own innocent brand of mischief, and Seth finds that utterly irresistible.

“There’s no time like the present,” Andy says, and he knows he’s winning. Seth can see it. That gleaming knowledge that he’s wearing Seth down.

“If you’re really that bored you could help me go through these ideas,” Seth says, fully expecting Andy to roll his eyes and voice his objections. What he’s _not_ expecting is for Andy to scramble to his feet, drag a chair around the desk, plonk down beside Seth and begin to scrutinise the nearest sheet of notes. But that’s what happens. Seth blinks. “Really?” But Andy is already gone, instantly absorbed in what he’s doing.

Seth’s desk, although generously proportioned, is really only designed to seat one person behind, meaning that their chairs are so close together that Andy’s right leg is pressed against his left from thigh to knee. Andy is leaning towards the now significantly disorganised pile of paperwork, elbows sprawling across the desktop in front of Seth, leaving him little choice but to lean back in his seat and look down at Andy.

“Dude, do we really need another Penelope bit?”

“It’s a pretty popular character.”

“Didn’t we just do one, like, two weeks ago?”

“Point taken.”

Andy glances up at the impressed note in Seth’s voice, smile creeping back. “What, you’re surprised that I actually take an interest in what goes into the show?”

“Yes I am.”

Andy looks like he wants to stick his tongue out, but settles for casting Seth a deeply scornful look before returning to the notes. His eyes scan the page intently for a few seconds before he snorts. “Jorm pitched this one, right?”

“Uh, you were _there_ , Andy. Remember? The table read? Two hours ago?”

“Right. _That_.”

Seth is barely holding in a laugh now. “You seriously forgot about that?”

Andy shrugs, eyes still on the page in his hand. “I zone in and out. It’s not my job to listen to every pitch. It’s yours.” He smirks, and Seth rolls his eyes.

“And it’s a job I _would_ be doing right now if you hadn’t decided to make yourself at home behind my desk.”

“I don’t hear you complaining.”

“Andy. What did I _just_ say?”

Andy smiles without looking up. “But you didn’t mean that. Next page please.”

“I’m your assistant now?”

“If that’s what you’d like to be called, then yes.” Seth dumbly hands Andy another sheet of paper that it would have been easier for him to pick up himself, wondering how he got here. A few seconds later Andy’s eyes cross and he tosses the sheet away with a disgusted noise.

“Man, how do you _do_ this all day?”

“I get paid to.”

“SNORE.”

“Is there a point here, Andy?”

Andy flops forward, important documents crumpled carelessly beneath his arms and face as he slumps across the desk. “I think I’m haemorrhaging from boredom.”

“Sure. Okay.”

Andy doesn’t move or speak. Seth folds his arms and waits, but Andy is persistent. Seth’s paperwork is trapped beneath his torso. He thinks for a moment, then smiles.

Poke.

Andy grunts.

Poke.

Andy wiggles.

Seth tries again, jabbing one finger into Andy’s ribs.

Poke. Poke. Poke.

“Quit it!” Andy says finally, voice muffled against the desk.

“Not until you get up.”

“Fine.” Andy huffs and straightens up, throwing his weight back into his chair. He’s almost pouting. “You’re mean.”

“You’re infuriating. Aren’t Akiva and Jorma around for you to annoy?”

“Jorma went home to his wife,” Andy says disdainfully. “Kiv’s...somewhere.”

“So go hang out with him.”

Andy’s voice softens and a small smile tilts up the corners of his mouth. “What if I want to hang out with you?” Seth looks pointedly at the dishevelled mass of papers on the desk, and Andy sighs. “Right. Work. Gottit.”

“We can hang in a couple of hours,” Seth offers, but Andy grimaces.

“I don’t know what I’ll be doing later. I’m here _now_.”

“Then clearly this is a stalemate.”

Andy smiles slyly. “There may be a way around it. Follow my lead.” He leans in close and draws Seth’s earlobe between his teeth. Seth’s eyes immediately shoot to the half-open door even as lust spikes in his stomach. Andy lets go but stays close enough for his voice to rasp low in Seth’s ear. “No one can see in here from the hallway. Trust me.” The warm tickle of his breath raises goose bumps along Seth’s arms.

“Um,” Seth starts, “this still isn’t me getting any work done.”

“I’m not stopping you,” Andy says, the tone of his voice downright evil. Seth drags his eyes away from the door and back to the paperwork, but Andy’s fingers are creeping along the inside of his thigh and he can’t focus on anything but wondering exactly how high up they’re planning on travelling. “Try harder,” Andy says, and Seth realises that in theory, this is a very good compromise. In theory.

“I don’t think I can do that if you keep...doing _that_ ,” he says, voice soft and a little breathless. He’s never known anybody who can take him from business mode to sex mode quite as quickly as Andy can. He’s totally unpredictable, which is unbelievably frustrating and incredibly sexy in equal measures.

Well, it’s closer to 60/40.

“How hard can it be?” Andy asks, fingers rubbing slow, tight circles. “Pick ten sketches and put crosses next to them. That’s all.”

“There’s a little more to it than that, Andy,” Seth admonishes as he tries to get his arms to work. He manages to half-heartedly grab a few pages before his eyes fall closed at the hot, wet sensation of Andy’s mouth on his neck. It’s a struggle to carry on talking. “If putting crosses next to ideas was my job, I’d be—oh—laughing all the way to the—mmm—bank.”

Andy’s mouth disengages briefly. “It’s only Monday, Seth. You can do it tomorrow. Who cares?”

There are a dozen more protests that Seth could make, chiefly the fact that the show runs to a very tight schedule, one which Andy is fully aware of and which absolutely does not allow for Seth, the head writer, to complete Monday’s work on Tuesday. But Andy arguing with him means Andy not using his mouth for things that in the last two minutes have become deadly important to Seth, so he lets the objections stay in his head. After all, his body really doesn’t have a problem with the current situation.

Both of Andy’s hands are involved now, working on tugging Seth’s shirt free of the belted waistband of his slacks. Seth really only has two options at this point. The first is to leap up, shut the door, then throw Andy against it and ravish him. The second is to stay where he is, let Andy continue, and at least pretend to be doing work in case anybody happens to wander past and take the half-open door as an invitation. Because not giving in to Andy is completely off the table at this point. Along with, Seth notices, half of his paperwork. The first option is...well, not exactly the sensible choice, but the marginally less insane choice. But the second option... Seth’s lips curl into a smile. Now, the second option is a lot more fun.

Successful in his shirt-freeing endeavour, Andy’s cool hands skim over Seth’s stomach, making him twitch, Andy’s breath loud by his ear.

“I’ll need a pen,” Seth says, eyes sliding sideways and meeting Andy’s in a mutual look of assent. Andy smiles.

“You are terrific.”

“Thank you. Shall we?”

“Can you promise to be super-quiet?” Andy asks, the undercurrent of excitement in the air mirrored in his voice in a way that makes Seth’s boxer briefs suddenly feel a size too small. He takes a shaky breath.

“I’ll certainly try.”

“Because it’s your job on the line if we get caught,” Andy says, and his eyes are positively alight with excitement now. One hand returns to Seth’s thigh and squeezes hard, and Seth swallows.

“I still need a pen, Andy.”

“Oh yeah. Hold on.”

He jumps out of his chair and leaves Seth momentarily sitting in a cold draft with an erection only partially hidden by his untucked shirt, feeling more than a little ridiculous. But seconds later Andy has retrieved a pen from somewhere in the office (Seth is too busy staring at his ass to really pay attention) and is sliding back into his seat, every hot inch of his body as close to Seth’s as he can get it. Seth reaches out for the pen but before he can take it, Andy is closing his eyes and sliding his tongue around the end of it before drawing it slowly into his mouth, cheeks hollowing as he sucks. The cheesiness of the action isn’t lost on Seth, but it’s still enough to bring out the sweat on his palms. Andy opens his eyes and gives the pen one final suck before letting it slip from his mouth, a smirk replacing it.

“Seth Meyers, are you blushing?”

“Shut up, I just had a really good idea,” Seth says, pupils noticeably more dilated than before. “Give me the pen and get under the desk.” Now Andy’s eyes darken and he slips off of the chair and onto his knees beside Seth.

“Yeah?”

Seth breathes deep, looking at Andy, the depths of his eyes, fullness of his lips. “Definitely. Yes.”

Their eyes stay locked as Andy lays first the pen and then his glasses on the desk in front of Seth. Seth pushes his chair back so there’s enough space between him and the desk for Andy to ease his body into. He picks up the pen and lets his free hand settle in Andy’s hair, fingers threading softly through the curls. “Quick, before anyone walks in.”

“Oh like you don’t want them to,” Andy says darkly, but he kneels down between Seth’s legs and motions for him to pull his chair forward again. Now Seth is seated exactly as he had been before Andy had interrupted the boring expanse of his work-filled afternoon, only with one glaring difference.

“This is ridiculously hot,” Seth breathes, glancing down quickly, just barely catching Andy’s eye. Intimacy, reassurance in a heartbeat. Andy starts to unbutton his pants and Seth forces his eyes to settle on the jumble of papers in front of him. All he can take in is a meaningless sea of words, his zipper inching down, easing the pressure. Andy’s hand snaking in through the slit in his underwear, invading the warmth inside. Seth’s fingertips turn white around the pen, Andy slipping his cock out into the open air, totally exposed beneath his desk. And when he feels the sweet silk of Andy’s tongue right against the tip, he has to fight really hard to keep his eyes open.

Seth’s nerves are strung as tightly as guitar strings, ears straining for even a hint of sound outside the office door, anything behind his own rough breathing and the noises of Andy’s mouth, obscene in the near silence. His leg muscles are bunched and tense until Andy’s hands slip along his thighs and he tries to relax just a little. Not enough to drop his guard, but just enough to enjoy it. Because Andy is inarguably good at blowing him. He slides back and does this thing with his tongue, right on Seth’s most sensitive spot, and internally, Seth screams.

Andy moves slowly, drawing the whole thing out. Languidly his mouth moves as far down as it can go, intensely hot, taking as much of Seth as possible, pausing for a moment before moving back up, leaving Seth to shudder as the air hits his spit-slicked skin. It’s a little like torture. Really ineffective torture that feels amazing. Any other time Seth would be thrilled that Andy is taking his time, but in his office with the door open on a Monday afternoon, he feels that a certain amount of swiftness is required. He tries to get this across with the thrust of his hips, the pressure of his hand on Andy’s head, but his efforts are utterly ignored. Andy is having way too much fun to put Seth out of his misery just yet. The next time Seth’s cock hits the back of his throat, he swallows. And Seth bites his tongue hard enough to bleed.

Seth tries to focus on the paperwork, that damned paperwork, but every time he reads more than a few words Andy finds a new way to make his vision swim and all thoughts disappear apart from _God, please_. A little at a time he is edging closer towards oblivion; skin tingling, pulse racing, whole body straining towards it. Andy pulls all the way off and wraps both hands around him in a slick channel and Seth has to hold his breath to keep from panting. He is dimly aware, in the tiny part of his mind not currently occupied with how good this feels, that he is well beyond the point where he could act normally if anybody actually did walk in now. No way he could pretend that anything other than this is happening.

The flat of Andy’s tongue glides all the way along the underside and Seth screws his eyes shut. Then Andy’s mouth is around him again, sucking hard while his hands knead and squeeze, and it’s all over, Seth’s hands clamping convulsively down on the desk, the sound of tearing paper almost muffling the low groan he can’t hold back as Andy swallows everything that his hips push out. Andy disengages with a slurp and he gently helps Seth tuck himself away and refasten his pants, Seth making little noises of protest because really, can’t that wait until everything has stopped throbbing and his hands have stopped shaking?

In the afterglow of his orgasm, Seth can hear his own heartbeat gradually slowing and his body feels like it’s made entirely of cooked spaghetti. He gives into the limp, loose feeling and slides out of his chair, hitting the floor with a thud that makes Andy choke on laughter. The carpet tickles his nose and he sneezes.

“Seth!” Andy manages in a hoarse whisper, sounding caught between amusement and panic. “Come on, get up!”

“No,” Seth mumbles, pulling Andy closer in the semi-darkness, their legs knocking against the sides of the desk, which was definitely not designed to house two grown men beneath it. Nonetheless, Seth somehow finds a way of pulling Andy down beside him, hands sliding beneath Andy’s hoodie and over the deliciously smooth skin of his back, making Andy hum a little beneath his breath.

“I guess I’ll be staying up late tonight to finish that work,” Seth says, pushing his body as tightly against Andy’s as he can.

“I didn’t stop you for that long,” Andy says, smiling beautifully in the shadows. “There’s still time.” Then Seth pushes a hand straight down the front of his jeans and he spasms.

“We’re not done yet.”


End file.
